Will’s amusement made a hell of a lot more sense now that I stood in the center of his property. I spun around in a circle, awed by my surroundings. Vineyards sprawled to my left, going on for what looked like miles from my standpoint. Mountains decorated the landscape beyond it, giving the area a wilderness feel that was belied by the small community at my back.

“That’s the original winery.” Will pointed to the large building to our right. “We still use it for these vineyards, but most of what I produce out here is aged for long periods and kept within the family.”

“So this was your original investment.” I couldn’t keep the shock out of my voice. Talk about impressive.

“Yep, but it didn’t look like this when I bought it. See that tree about fifty yards out?” He waited for me to nod. “Everything beyond it was dead, and the winery had seen better days. They used to pick all the grapes with this old machine that has long since retired. I prefer to gather by hand, hence all the necessary employees for the various vineyards. It’s more expensive, but the wine is better for it.”

“Interesting.” I was too fascinated to come up with a better word. This was nothing like I imagined. All the millionaires I knew dressed in fancy suits and lived in boardrooms, yet here was Will, standing in the middle of a field, explaining his world.

“Anyway, that home over there”—he pointed to a house with a long front porch directly across from the vineyard—“is the newest and houses the Greggory family. Sam Greggory manages this vineyard for me now, so it’s helpful to have him live close by. The home on the other side of the winery over there is for employees during grape harvest season. Those can be some grueling shifts, so I like to keep everyone safe. Most of my estate staff reside in the lodging over there.” He gestured to what reminded me of apartments down the road away from the winery.

“And the home way over there, up on that hill, is mine. That’s where we’re meeting everyone for dinner.”

“I see.” Millionaire. Right. Got it. “You own a lot of land.”

His grin held a touch of boyishness. “I’ve expanded as needed.”

“Uh-huh.”

He glanced at my feet. “I would recommend we walk up the hill to my place, but you’re not properly dressed for it.”

“I walk Chicago in heels every day.”

“Not the same, darlin’.”

My eyes narrowed. “I can handle a hill.” It didn’t look that far away. Maybe three blocks, tops. Easy.

He folded his arms over his broad chest. “Care to make it interesting?”

“As in a bet?”

“More like a challenge with rewards.”

The competitor in me stepped up to the plate and cocked a brow at him. “Go on.”

“A race. If I win, you stay at my house the entire week.”

“Hardly fair considering you live here and are wearing”—I studied his shoes with a frown—“…not necessarily sneakers… But men’s footwear still has a leg up on women’s heels any day.”

“I promise to walk the entire way, but you can run.”

I scoffed at that. To assume I would have to run to beat him? “Yeah, because that’s not arrogant at all.”

“You were the one who stated male footwear trumps heels any day.”

Okay, he had me there. “So I can run, if I want, but you have to walk. And if you beat me up there, I have to stay in your house all week. What do I get if I win?”

He spread out his hands. “Whatever you want.”

I took in my surroundings and what appeared to be a gorgeous home up on that hill. Staying there would not be a hardship in the slightest. But . . . “What if I want to stay in your house while you sleep at the motel?”

His laugh was unexpected and charming. “Kicking the client out of his own home? Surely Janet wouldn’t approve.” His light tone said he wasn’t offended, so I rolled with it.

“Well, she’s not here, and this little wager is between you and me.” I waggled my finger between us. “Unless you’re afraid you might lose.”

“Oh, darlin’, I know I won’t.”

“Then game on.”

“I’ll even give you a head start. Just follow the road.” He pointed to the long driveway ahead of me where Rudy had stopped the town car. The older man stood leaning against it with a smirk on his face. Seemed Will wasn’t the only one who expected me to lose.

“You’re going to regret underestimating me, Mister Mershano.”

“Likewise, Miss Dawson.” His cocky grin hit me square in the lower abdomen. Confidence was definitely one of his sexier traits, not that I would ever admit it out loud.

“I hope you enjoy motel rooms!” I shouted as I started up the hill at a brisk pace. No way would I run up the hill in these two-inch heels. They would break in the gravel. But a quick walk? No problem. I spent most mornings at the gym, though I’d taken a bit of a hiatus thanks to this giant project. Still, it couldn’t be that hard. I walked over a mile in heels every day to work, and back again.

My feet started to complain about a quarter of the way up, mostly because the point of my stiletto kept catching between rocks. Will’s knowing chuckle slid up my spine as he followed, his steps silent on the gravel. I almost looked over my shoulder, but I caught myself. Knowing he was there, closing the distance with every step, pushed me harder.

The sensation of being stalked sent a chill down my spine, and my pulse kicked up a notch. It had nothing to do with exertion or the desire to win, but with the thrill of the chase. His game evolved in my head, causing me to lengthen my strides as I felt him nearing. I considered kicking off my shoes and running, but the gravel would destroy my stockings, and I was rather fond of them. And as athletic as I was, no way could I pull off running in these heels. I’d break my ankle.

“I’ll admit”—his breath was warm against the back of my neck, eliciting a yelp of surprise—“you’re doing far better than I anticipated, but we’re only halfway there, and even with the five-minute lead I gave you, I’m about to pass you.”

I turned around to smack him on the chest for scaring the shit out of me and caught my heel on a rock instead. His hands caught me before I could fall and yanked me back against his chest to steady me. My limbs shook so hard from the adrenaline coursing through my system that I couldn’t move. Caught, my body seemed to say. Submit. I shivered as that word traversed my thoughts.

“Do you want another head start?” he whispered. “Or do you surrender?”

I trembled at the word surrender. Why did that sound so alluring on his lips? I’d given up control once and it hadn’t ended well, yet something about this man made me want to consider trying again. “Giving me another head start would be cheating.”

His hands seemed to tighten on my hips as he inhaled deeply, pressing his chest hard into my back. “I wouldn’t mind catching you again.” The words were hot against my ear. “Unless you forfeit, in which case I can call for the car.”

I stared up at the house. Halfway, he’d said. Exhilaration swam through my blood, exciting every nerve. The idea of a chase floored me in a way I never could have anticipated. A fun reprieve from reality, maybe? In any case, the idea of pushing Will sounded like an excellent diversion. But it would mean ruining my stockings. Oh well. I had a suitcase full of them. What was one pair for a little fun?

“Forfeiting isn’t in my nature,” I told him as I kicked off my heels and took off at full speed up the hill. Rather than stick to the gravel path, I took to the grassy field and heard him shout something behind me. Maybe a curse or a word about his future stay at the motel. Grinning like a lunatic, I bounded up the hill, my sights on the house above, and felt triumph bubbling to the surface just as my foot nailed a sharp rock. It sent me flying forward into a grassy mound that softened the blow, but my left ankle throbbed. Will’s face hovered over me a second later as he fell to his knees, his hands on my leg.

“Right. That backfired badly,” I said through gritted teeth.

He said nothing as he examined my ankle, rotating it and making me wince in the process. “I don’t think it’s broken, but very likely sprained.” His warm touch drifted up and down my lower leg before he met my gaze. “I tried to warn you about the rocks.”

I tried to smile and failed. Instead, I ended up biting my lip and lying back in the grass as my pain receptors caught up with my ankle. The adrenaline coursing through my system had weakened the impact, but now that it’d worn off, a flood of sensation rushed through my limbs and brought tears to my eyes.

Will took one look at my face and sighed. “Yeah, bad idea on my part. I’m going to need to carry you.”

I grabbed his wrist before he could wrap it beneath my shoulders. “Just help me up.” I paused to take a deep, steadying breath because, fuck, my ankle hurt. Dizziness hit me next, causing me to forget what I’d been about to say. Will twisted easily from my grip and slipped his arms beneath me. I didn’t get a chance to argue as he lifted me with ease and began the ascent up the hill. The lawyer in me who loved a good fight fled as I wrapped my arms around his neck and gave in to his strength.

“Ice and painkillers ought to do the trick,” he murmured.

I nodded, eyes closed. Focusing on his spicy scent and sturdy hold kept me from thinking about my ankle. Of course, it awoke a myriad of other, more pleasurable sensations deep down. He felt every bit as hard as I imagined, his muscles flexing as he climbed the hill with the ease of a man who exercised daily. His introduction when we arrived confirmed my suspicions about his work habits. Will was a man who liked using his hands. Unlike most men in his position, he preferred to take on the tasks himself, even the laborious ones. Respect tightened my chest. Sure, his influential family helped him purchase this property debt-free, but he’d built it up with his own sweat and tears. Impressive didn’t begin to cut it.

“I’ll get that,” Rudy said as he rushed past us. I opened my eyes to see we’d arrived at the main house. It seemed modest for a man of his wealth but was still larger than the average home. Definitely bigger than anything I could afford in Chicago or the nearby suburbs. Will carried me inside through the open two-story foyer, past what appeared to be an oversized living area, to a staircase that went up to a landing overlooking the gathering areas of the home. He walked up with ease and strolled down a hallway with five doors, giving me an idea of what he meant about having extra bedrooms to spare, to the end where Rudy stood waiting.

“Thanks,” Will murmured as we passed him at the threshold. Bold, masculine colors assaulted my senses as we entered what had to be the master bedroom. Open doors leading to a balcony overlooking the back of the house greeted me on one side, while a massive bed and mahogany furniture greeted me on the other. More windows, including a skylight, told me Will was a fan of the sun. He laid me gently on a quilt meant for cuddling and left me gaping at his backside as he disappeared through a pair of French doors at the far corner of the room. He returned a minute later with a glass of water and a bottle of painkillers.

“Take three of these; they’re anti-inflammatories. And drink this whole glass of water. I’ll be back with ice.”

I didn’t argue, just did as he asked before making myself more comfortable on the bed. It wasn’t easy with the throbbing ankle, but I managed to pull myself up to the pillows. When Will returned, he set the ice aside and looked over my legs.

“Your stockings are ruined,” he murmured. “And I think that skirt might be too.”

I hadn’t even bothered to look, but a glance down made me grimace. Yeah, I looked like hell. “Good thing we’re shopping for new clothes,” I joked, earning a brief grin from him.

His fingers danced over my ankle. “We need to remove these so I can look at the cut on your foot and the scrapes on your knees.”

“Cut?” I repeated. I’d been so consumed by my ankle, I hadn’t noticed the stinging until he mentioned it. A glance down had me starting to roll off the bed, but a hand on my hip kept me in place. “I’m bleeding on your quilt.”

“Like I care,” he chastised. “No moving unless it’s to help me get these stockings off.”

“Yes, sir,” I grumbled, sarcastic. “I’ll have to unhook them from the garters.” Yes, I had a fetish for lingerie. Not that anyone ever had the pleasure of enjoying it except me.

His eyes darkened as I lifted my skirt to fiddle with the stockings. I wasn’t nearly as gentle as I should be, but they were going directly into the trash anyway. When I lifted to undo the back, pain shot up my leg, making me wince.

“Here,” he pushed my hand away and deftly unfastened the fabric at the back of both thighs. I should have known he’d be skilled at that. He lifted my uninjured leg first and placed my foot against his solid abdomen before dipping his fingers into the lacy top. My breath caught as I met his gaze. The pain had dulled the intimacy of the act, but watching him slowly roll the stocking over my thigh, then my knee, and down my calf sent a jolt of desire right to my core. I fought the urge to clench my thighs, knowing he would feel it if I did.

When he started on my other leg, the desire to squirm overwhelmed me until the fabric slipped over my knee. I’d apparently gone down on this leg first because my other one was unmarred. I hissed out a breath as he continued exposing my leg and another scrape I hadn’t realized was there. Pain and pleasure seemed to war inside of me, sending mixed signals to my brain. I didn’t know whether to moan or to cry. He took particular care as he rolled the silk over my ankle and injured foot. When he didn’t drop it right away, I risked a glance down and found him surveying the cut.

“I don’t think you need stitches, but we definitely need to clean it up and put a bandage on it.”

“Great.” I fought a whimper as he set my foot down.

A knock at the doorway had Will lifting his head.

“Maeve is here,” Rudy said. I started to shift, self-conscious at all the skin on display, but Will caught my hip again and flashed me a dark look that froze me in place.

“No moving,” he reminded me, making me shiver. I knew he was dominant, but this was new. “Tell Maeve we’re going to be a few minutes.”

“Yes, sir.” Rudy never walked into the room, much to my gratitude, but I still narrowed my gaze at Will.

“Excuse me for not wanting the world to see me like this.”

He snorted. “Rudy is hardly the world.”

“Still, it’s my body, and I’ll move if I want.”

“Not in my bed, you won’t.”

My lips parted on a gasp. He had to be joking. But the look in his eyes said he wasn’t. He held me for a second longer—to drive home his point—before heading back to the bathroom.

I blew out the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding and shivered. It went against the grain to be turned on right now, but my nipples were as hard as rocks against my lacy bra, and my panties were more than soaked.

What the heck is wrong with me?

Powerful men had always fascinated me, hence my involvement with Ryan. He was the epitome of formidable, with all his political connections and domineering attitude, but he took it to unhealthy levels. And his version of control in the bedroom involved him getting off whenever he wanted and leaving me high and dry.

Something about the way Will looked at me just now said that was not his idea of dominance. And unlike Ryan’s, Will’s alpha tendencies were more subtle—charming, even.

Except for his comment about moving. Which I did now just to spite him. He caught me in the act of shuffling up the bed and cocked an eyebrow as he walked out of the bathroom.

I didn’t bother stopping and returned his look with one of my own. What are you going to do about it?

The smile he flashed at me said, Oh, darlin’, wouldn’t you like to know? But he didn’t comment out loud as he sat on the bed beside me and started doctoring my foot.

“This is going to sting,” he warned as he started cleaning the cut. I bit my lip to keep from squealing, then let it go with a pop when he bent to blow on my foot. When he did the same thing to the cut on my knee, I shivered. Okay, maybe this doctor thing wasn’t so bad. And the feel of his rough hands on my bare skin? Yeah, I liked that too.

“All right, you need to elevate this for at least twenty minutes with ice. While you’re doing that, I’ll grab your suitcase from the car so you can change.” His lips quirked up. “Just because you decided to cheat and run through a rock-infested field does not mean you get to skip this afternoon’s meet and greet with my team. Nice try, though, Miss Dawson.”

My eyes narrowed. “Are you accusing me of slacking off?”

He reached over me to grab two pillows and paused with his face a few inches from mine. “No, I’m accusing you of cheating. Which, by the way, means I won, and we’ll be sharing this house for the week.” He waggled his brows. “I think we’ve gotten off to a fabulous start, don’t you?”

Will arranged my foot on the pillows, then draped a towel, which I hadn’t realized was there, over my ankle before pressing the ice pack to the most tender area.

My resulting wince killed whatever retort I had lined up on my tongue. I couldn’t even remember what we’d been bickering about. How stupid had I been to run through that damn field? All for what? To win a silly game? Or was it darker than that? I’d enjoyed him chasing me. Deep down, I’d hoped he would catch me. Part of that fantasy came true, since I’d landed in his bed, but not nearly in the way I desired.

He leaned over to tug at the edges of the quilt from the opposite side of the bed and yanked it closer. “In case you get cold,” he explained as he left the corner beside me. His hand went to my hip. “Now, I mean it, Rachel. No moving.” That dark look was back, sending a shiver across my skin.

Why is that so sexy?

Because you’ve lost your marbles.

“You realize orders don’t work on me.” I couldn’t help throwing that out there. He had to know this about me by now, and if he didn’t, then we had another conversation coming.

He grinned and dropped his lips to my ear. “Oh, I do, darlin’. But I also know you enjoy them.” His teeth scraped over my neck in such a brief caress that I wondered if I’d imagined it. And then he was gone.